


Tiny, Breathless Angel

by FaramirsBlessing



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Frisk Uses Sign Language, Gen, Goat Mom Is Best Mom, Medical Procedures, Mute Frisk, Non-Binary Frisk, Papyrus and Spaghetti, Pneumonia, Sick kiddo, sans is good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaramirsBlessing/pseuds/FaramirsBlessing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk falls ill with a serious case of pneumonia on the surface and is cared for by their beloved monster family with the assistance of a kind-hearted doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is multiple chapters but I wouldn't expect it to be updated a lot after the first few weeks. PLEASE be patient with me! Please also note that I am not a medical professional (although I'm studying for it!), and Undertale does not belong to me.

Marcie was still getting used to all the monsters that lived above ground now, and it was strange for her to see frog-like creatures wandering the grocery stores and dogs in full seven feet armor at the mall. However, she wasn’t a bigot or a person that hated the monsters - she thought they were beyond interesting and the ones she had spoken to at her daughter’s school were always very kind. In fact, this is how she knew Toriel and Frisk. 

When Marcie’s eight-year-old daughter, Addy, had been assigned to one of the newest teachers in the school, who happened to be a monster, Marcie and her husband had been dubious at first. After all, how could a monster from the Underground know very much about history or English or any other subject any eight-year-old would need to know? But Marcie had been beyond pleased with Addy’s education. Every day her daughter came home with more knowledge than ever, some random fact about the US presidents implanted in her little head. Even better was how much Addy loved learning now. She wanted to read small history books more than ever and loved showing her mom how she knew how to do simple math equations. Marcie and her husband were over the moon; Addy had never been more eager.

So when Marcie went to Toriel, Addy’s teacher, and told her how pleased she was with Addy’s learning, the teacher was very happy, almost happier than Marcie. She told Marcie that many of the parents didn’t like a monster teaching their children and even considered pulling their kids out of the class. Marcie, unfortunately, had not been surprised. Some of the parents in the PTA, like Helen Jones and Linda Smith, were hostile towards the monsters, and, unfortunately, the little one who lived with some of them, Frisk.

Frisk was a unique and special child who only spoke in sign language. They wished to go by gender neutral pronouns, them and their, and Marcie had no problem with this. Unfortunately, many of the parents did, attaching pronouns the child didn’t want to be called by every time the parents saw them. Marcie saw how upset this made Frisk and she was growing increasingly angry. Frisk was a lovely child - brown hair that fell to their shoulders, fair skinned and small, always wearing blue and stripes. They had been an orphan before, whisked from foster family to foster family before freeing the monsters and becoming their adopted child. Marcie saw that Frisk seemed happier than before, and this, in turn, made her happy. She told Addy that she should always be kind to the other children, but especially kind to Frisk, and had even taught her daughter some simple sign language so she could talk to them. Toriel approached Marcie after school one day, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and thanked her earnestly for teaching Addy sign language. She was the kindest child to Frisk in the entire class and Frisk was so happy that they could talk to someone.

Then, last week, Frisk disappeared from school. As Marcie buckled her daughter into the backseat, Addy blinked at her.

“Mommy,” she said. “Frisk hasn’t been at school all week. And Ms. Toriel seems sad. She cried today.”

Marcie looked alarmed. 

“Really, Addy? Did Ms. Toriel say anything about Frisk?”

“When I asked her where Frisk was, she got really upset and then cried. Is that bad, Mommy?”

Marcie unbuckled Addy from the backseat and helped her out of the car. 

“I’m going to talk to Ms. Toriel for a second, sweetie. Why don’t you come inside with me? Bring your book so you can sit in the hall and read.”

“Okay!” Addy grabbed her book about Abraham Lincoln, then took her mother’s hand as they crossed the parking lot and entered the school. Within minutes, the mother and daughter were outside of Ms. Toriel’s second grade classroom, the door decorated with small handmade snowflakes with each child’s name on them. Addy sat herself in front of her cubby with her book as Marcie knocked on the door and peeked her head in.

“Toriel?” she said, and saw the teacher sitting at her desk grading worksheets. She forced a smile at Marcie and set aside her pen.

“Hello, Doctor Mitchell,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you and Frisk were all right.” Marcie stepped fully into the classroom, letting the door shut behind her so that Addy couldn’t hear what the two adults were talking about. “Addy was telling me that Frisk hasn’t been here all week. Are they okay?”

Toriel pushed the worksheets away from her and set her head in her hands. 

“Frisk is very sick,” she said, her voice muffled and thick. “It was only a cough on Monday, but it’s been getting worse. They have a bad fever now. Over 102 degrees.”

Marcie’s eyes widened.

“Have you taken Frisk to a doctor yet?” she asked.

“No. We don’t want to move them. We’re too frightened to. And we don’t have the money for a doctor anyway.”

“Toriel,” Marcie said, pulling up a chair next to the teacher. She laid a hand on her arm. “Why don’t I take a look at Frisk?”

The teacher looked up quickly, hope shining from her eyes.

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” Marcie smiled. “I am a doctor, after all.”

“But I thought you were a surgeon. . .”

“A pediatric orthopedic surgeon to be precise,” Marcie said. She smiled at Toriel’s confusion. “It means I work with kids and bones. But the most important thing is that work with children. I see them every day, Toriel. And I know how to talk to them.”

“But you’re not a pediatrician. . .”

“I went to medical school for a grand total of eight years. I know how to run all the basic tests. Don’t worry, Toriel. I’ll take good care of Frisk.”

Toriel nodded slowly, agreeing. 

“How should we pay you?” she asked.

Marcie waved a hand in dismissal. 

“Don’t worry about paying me,” she said. Toriel opened her mouth to object, but Marcie continued speaking. “You’ve already been paying me tenfold by how much you're teaching Addy. I don’t need anything else.” 

“But, Dr. Mitchell-” 

“You can call me Marcie, Toriel. Besides, I make enough money as it is. That’s why I can afford to send Addy here.”

Toriel hesitated a moment more, before nodding slowly in agreement.

“Very well, Marcie,” she said and the doctor grinned when Toriel used her name. “I’ll take you to Frisk. But I have one question first.”

“Yes?”

“Do you know sign language?”

“I do,” Marcie nodded. “I have a nephew who is deaf, so I learned to sign in order to talk to him. If I may ask, is Frisk deaf?”

“No. They just don’t talk. As long as you understand what they’re signing, you should be fine.” 

“That’s good. Is it all right if I check on Frisk today? From what you’re telling me, it seems like I should see them as soon as possible.” 

“Of course,” Toriel said, and she stood up, beginning to put the worksheets in her briefcase to take back home with her. “You can follow-” She stopped. “Oh, but what about Addy? You can’t leave her here, can you?”

“Don’t worry. I called her father right after I decided I needed to talk to you. He should be here by now. We live five minutes from the school.”

There was a knock on the door and Addy and her father stepped into the room, Addy straddled on Mr. Mitchell’s hip. 

“Hey, honey. Hello, Ms. Toriel. Is everything all right?” 

“I’m just going to make a house call to check on Frisk,” Marcie said. “Can you take Addy home, David? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll give you a call.” 

“Yeah, sure thing. Is everything all right with Frisk?”

“They’re sick,” Toriel said, swinging her briefcase into her hand. “Dr. Mitchell - sorry, Marcie - has agreed to have a look at them for us.”

David smiled at his wife. 

“I hope Frisk feels better,” he said. “Why don’t we walk to the parking lot together? It looks like we’re all ready to go.” 

“Sure,” Toriel said. And so the family and teacher walked out into the parking lot, where Addy’s dad strapped her into the backseat of his car as Toriel and Marcie went to their own. However, before Marcie left she gave her daughter and husband farewell kisses. As she headed to her own car, Addy grabbed her sleeve. 

“Mommy,” she said. “Can you give this to Frisk, please? I made it for them.” 

She held out a small paper butterfly that she had made with a sheet of orange patterned paper, decorated with little smiley faces and bright glitter unicorn stickers. Marcie smiled and ruffled her daughter’s hair.

“Sure thing, sweetie. Be good, okay? I love you.”

“Love you!”

Marcie closed the door to the backseat and then turned to her husband. She kissed him and then waved goodbye as they drove away. She watched the car disappear, then went to her own car. Toriel walked up to her. 

“You can follow me to the house,” she said. “It’s about ten minutes from here.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be right behind you.”

Toriel climbed into her own car, started the ignition, then drove slowly forward, making sure Marcie was following in her silver white car. 

On the way to Toriel’s house, Marcie went through her medical list in her mind, making sure she had everything she needed. Stethoscope? Check. Thermometer? Check. BP cuff? Check. Prescription pad? Check. Marcie fleetingly wondered why she kept all these things in her car, but quickly shrugged the thought away. She was a doctor, for goodness’s sake - it only made sense for her to have these things with her at all times. (She was also very paranoid. And, for once, her paranoia paid off.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcie sees Frisk for the first time and meets Pap and Sans.

Just as Toriel said, ten minutes later they arrived in front of a two story white washed home, small and neat, with a Christmas tree in the front window and poinsettias in vases flanking the blue front door. There was a half-melted snowman in the front yard with button eyes and a turnip for a nose. Marcie chuckled and parked across the street, grabbing her medical bag from the trunk. Toriel was waiting by the front door, wringing her hands anxiously. 

“There are many monsters in this house,” she said. “And some of them are, well. . . unique. I’d be patient with them and I’ll try to keep them from prying you with too many questions.”

Marcie smiled. 

“They shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I’ve dealt with large families before, so I have at least a little experience.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, Toriel, I’m sure they’re wonderful. Have they all spent time with Frisk?”

“Yes. Everyone’s taken a turn with them. They all know how Frisk is doing.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to explain much.”

“Ready?” Toriel asked and when Marcie nodded, she put the key in the lock and pushed open the door. 

They were immediately accosted by a tall skeleton, eyes huge and wearing a cape and mittens. The smell of burnt spaghetti sauce drifted from behind him.

“Toriel!” he gasped. “You’re back! Thank goodness, the human has been asking for you!”

Toriel’s eyes widened and she pushed her way into the house. 

“Why didn’t you call me, Papyrus?” she demanded, dropping her briefcase next to an empty hat rack. 

“Well, the human has only just started.”

A keening whine echoed from upstairs and Toriel, Papyrus, and Marcie exchanged nervous glances before Toriel dashed up the stairs, two at a time, Marcie close at her heels. She turned and ran into the room that was the first door on the left. Marcie followed more slowly now, peeking into the room. It was Frisks’, of course, the door decorated with tiny flowers and bumblebees and their name in their scribbly handwriting. The room was painted a light lavender color, a twin bed with a pink and purple quilt against a wall by the window. There was an armoire on the opposite side of the room, and a chest full of toys and books next to it. Next to Frisks’ bed was a nightstand and a lamp, the small nightstand cluttered with bottles of cough syrup, tissues, and an old thermometer. Finally, Marcie turned her eyes to Frisk. 

The child was small, of course, but seemed even tinier than usual, with their quilt pulled up to their chin. Their face was pale, but flushed, bright patches of red adorning their cheeks. They were sweating and shaking, and, as Marcie watched, an ugly cough was ripped from their mouth. Toriel had seated herself on the edge of Frisk’s bed and was petting their hair as another monster, who looked similar to the other skeleton downstairs but shorter, sat in a chair by Frisk’s bed, holding their hand. Frisk took a deep breath after the cough ended, whining again. Marcie swallowed hard. Thank goodness they had called her in for this - Frisk was not doing well at all.

“Toriel,” she said, and the monster looked up from her spot on Frisk’s bed. “Can I take a look at Frisk now?”

“Who are you?” the skeleton asked.

“Doctor Mitchell,” Marcie said, holding out her hand. “I’m the mother of one of Toriel’s students.”

“And you’re a doctor?”

“Yes.”

The skeleton nodded and shook Marcie’s hand. It was strange to have bones curled over her palm in a warm greeting, but it was by no means unpleasant. 

“It’s good to meet you, then. My name is Sans.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Sans got up from the chair by Frisk’s side and motioned that Marcie take a seat. As Marcie settled herself and got her stethoscope ready, Sans spoke to Toriel. 

“I’m gonna tell Pap and the others that there’s a doctor up here. Do you want me to come back up?”

“Oh, yes please, Sans,” Toriel answered. “I would like someone else besides me hear what Dr. Mitchell has to say.”

The skeleton nodded and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. With the soft click of the lock, Frisk moved their head slightly, leaning into Toriel’s touch.

“My child,” the teacher said, “are you awake?”

Frisk moaned and tossed their head. They signed in answer.

'Mom?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, short chapter, but I needed you guys to know that I actually mean to write this consistently. I hope you enjoyed! P.S: Frisk's sign language is noted with single quotations, for example Frisk signs 'I love you!'


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcie takes a look at Frisk with Sans and Toriel.

Continued from last chapter:

“My child,” the teacher said, “are you awake?”

Frisk moaned and tossed their head. They signed in answer.

'Mom?'

***************************

Marcie’s eyes widened slightly when Frisk called Toriel this, but she wasn’t surprised. Toriel sighed.

“Yes, little one, I am here. I brought a doctor to see you.”

Marcie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She spoke to the feverish child, keeping her voice quiet. 

“Hi, Frisk, I’m Dr. Mitchell. I’m Addy’s mom. Do you remember me?”

Frisk turned their head towards Dr. Mitchell, squinting at her as if they were trying to remember. After a few moments, they nodded. Marcie was flooded by a little bit of relief. At least Frisk was still lucid. 

“Okay, that’s great. Toriel called me here so I could take a look at you. Is that okay?” Frisk nodded and Marcie smiled. “Good. First I’m going to take your temperature.” She pulled her thermometer out of her bag and swept the ball-like monitor across Frisk’s temple. She blinked in alarm at the number that appeared on the digital screen. 104.1. Not good. Marcie shook her head at Toriel and laid aside the thermometer, although she hid her worry with ease from Frisk. 

“Good job, Frisk. I’m gonna take your blood pressure now. The cuff will get a little tight, but that’s normal. All you need to do is stay still.” 

Frisk nodded slowly. As Marcie rolled up the child’s nightshirt sleeve to have full access to their arm, she heard the door open again. The shorter skeleton, Sans, reentered to stand behind Toriel. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he smiled. “You been good?”

“They’ve been great,” Marcie said, tightening the cuff around Frisk’s slim arm. “Perfect.” The BP cuff all set up, the doctor began to squeeze the inflatable bulb attached to the cuff, watching the dial go up on the gauge as she held her stethoscope to Frisk’s elbow. As the cuff got tighter and tighter, Frisk began to whimper and moan in confusion and fear, although it didn’t hurt. 

“Shh, stay still, angel,” Marcie said. “I know it’s getting tight, but we’re almost done. Just a bit longer now.”

Frisk continued to whimper, however, until the cuff had been removed from their arm.

“Good job, my child,” Toriel said, sweeping Frisk’s sweaty hair off of their brow. “You did so well.” 

“What was that?” Sans asked and Marcie turned to see the skeleton standing right behind her. 

“It was a blood pressure cuff,” the doctor explained, holding out the cuff. “The band gets a little tight when-”

“Did you hurt them?” Sans interrupted and Marcie could have sworn she saw a flash of blue shine from one of his eye sockets. 

“No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Kids just get a little scared when the cuff gets tight. But they’re fine. Not a mark on them.”

Sans nodded slowly. 

“Good,” he said. “So how is it? Their blood. . .?” He struggled to remember the rest of the phrase.

“Blood pressure,” Marcie supplied. She frowned. “Not too good, unfortunately. Their temperature is extremely high, as well. I have just one last thing to check.” She leaned over the bed again, laying a hand on Frisk’s slim arm, which was worryingly hot to the touch. “Frisk, I’m going to listen to your lungs and heart with my stethoscope.” Marcie unwrapped her purple stethoscope from her neck and placed the earpieces in her ears. “Can you sit up for me?”

Frisk whimpered and shook their head. Marcie looked over to Toriel for help and the monster grasped Frisk gently under the arms, murmuring to the child and keeping them upright. Frisk flailed weakly, their hands going up to sign.

'Put me down, Mom! Down! Down! Down!'

“Hush, my child,” Toriel whispered, kissing Frisk’s head. “Stay up for a little while. Just for a little while.” 

Marcie watched with alarm as Frisk’s eyes began watering with tears.

'No!' they said. 'No! Please, no! No! No! No! No!'

“Kiddo,” Sans said, sitting behind the child to keep them upright, “the doctor needs to have a listen to those little lungs and heart of yours. So hang in there, okay?”

'Sans! Mom! No!'

“Shh, Frisk, shh-” 

Frisk suddenly launched into a huge coughing fit, doubling over in Toriel’s arms. Marcie watched, alarmed, as tears leaked from Frisk’s eyelids and air was ripped from their tiny lungs, leaving them gasping and struggling to breathe. The monsters were obviously terrified, Toriel’s eyes huge and Sans’ bones shaking slightly. Marcie grabbed a tissue from the box by the bed and wedged herself between Toriel and Sans, holding the tissue over Frisk’s mouth. The child momentarily panicked, their little fist batting uselessly against Marcie, but when they coughed next Marcie pulled away, gazing into the tissue. Her heart dropped a bit.

There was a thick wad of yellow mucus on it, interlaced with thin webs of red. Sans appeared suddenly behind her and snatched the tissue from her hand.

“Is this blood?!” he asked, horrified. 

“What?!” Toriel gasped and she smashed the tiny Frisk, still coughing, to her chest. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Marcie said, prying the child from Toriel and holding them in her lap, beginning to gently rub their back. “Let’s all just take a breath for a second. Let’s help Frisk ride this through, all right? Then we’ll talk.” She leaned over Frisk and whispered in their ear. “Hang in there, bud. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”

'Help! Help!'

“We’re helping you, Frisk. But there’s not much we can do right now. Just cough. It will be okay, I promise.”

For the next four and a half minutes, which seemed to last an eternity, Frisk continued to cough and splutter, crying and flailing and kicking in protest, pain, and panic. They hacked up a few more wads of mucus, each one interlaced with more blood, and Toriel’s eyes grew so wide with fear that Frisk panicked and tried to fight Marcie with everything they had, so Marcie had to ask Toriel to leave, Sans staying behind.

Finally, Frisk stopped coughing, and they fell limply against Sans, their tiny fingers, blue at the fingertips, curled around Sans’ sweatshirt.

“Doc,” Sans said, rubbing his hand up and down Frisk’s back, “what’s going on with Frisk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! Dramatic ending cause I didn't know where else to end. Stay tuned for next chapter! Reviews would be great!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcie makes a call.

Previous Chapter:

Finally, Frisk stopped coughing, and they fell limply against Sans, their tiny fingers, blue at the fingertips, curled around Sans’ sweatshirt.

“Doc,” Sans said, rubbing his hand up and down Frisk’s back, “what’s going on with Frisk?”

***************************************

“I need to listen to their heart and lungs and then I’m going to make a call,” Marcie said, avoiding Sans’ question. “They need medicine.”

“Okay. Okay, sure. You gonna use that thing?” He nodded towards the stethoscope. 

“Yes.” The doctor leaned over Frisk. “I’m gonna lift up your shirt so I can hear your heart, okay, Frisk? It’s gonna be cold, but I’ll be done real soon. So be brave, okay?”

Frisk hummed and pushed themselves closer to Sans. Marcie pulled up the hem of Frisk’s striped nightshirt up and placed the cool metal head of the stethoscope against their chest. Frisk bucked at the sudden cold, frightened, but relaxed when Sans and Marcie spoke in quiet voices to them. After a few minutes of anxious listening to Frisk’s heart and lungs, Marcie bit her lip and laid her things away. 

“You can lay back down, Frisk,” she said, helping Sans lay them down in their bed, propped up with pillows. 

“You did really well today.” Sans pulled the plaid blanket up to Frisk’s chin and smoothed back their hair with his hand. “Real good, kiddo.”

“Sans, please stay here with Frisk,” Marcie said, getting to her feet. “I need to speak to the others.”

“Yeah, sure thing. Everything okay?”

Marcie bit her lip, looked down at Frisk, then shook her head.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said. “Just call if you need me.”

She walked out of the room, cell phone in hand, avoiding the worried gaze of the skeleton that seemed to bore into her back as she left. She stepped down the stairs as quickly as possible, then turned into the living room. There, gathered in cozy haphazard seats, were many other monsters, each seeming nervous and stressed. However, Marcie didn’t pay any attention to them, only motioning to Toriel to follow her outside. She began to dial numbers as the teacher led her out to the porch.

“What is it?” the teacher asked, anxious. “What’s wrong?”

“Frisk is very sick,” Marcie said. “And I would have liked to take them to the hospital.”

Toriel gasped. 

“The hospital?!” she cried. “A human hospital?”

“Yes, but I won’t.”

“Why not? If they need it-”

“The children’s hospital will not allow monsters inside. Because laws haven’t been passed for complete desegregation quite yet, I’m afraid that you would not be allowed to see Frisk. And I do not want to separate them from you.”

Toriel wrung her hands in worry.

“What are we going to do then?”

“I’m going to call in the hospital and get them to deliver some equipment. That way Frisk can be cared for here, where they’re comfortable and with people who love them.” Marcie smiled at Toriel in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Toriel. I’m sure that Frisk will be all right. Why don’t you go tell the others what’s going on while I call the hospital?”

“It’s nearly dinner time,” Toriel pointed out. “Are you sure you should be staying here? You should be with your family.”

“I’ll call them. Frisk needs my help right now. Besides, I’m sure David and Addy will have a good time together. She’s such a daddy’s girl.” Marcie grinned and Toriel forced a smile in return. “Head inside, Toriel. I’ll call the hospital and then speak to the rest of your family and friends. All right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll be waiting in the sitting room for you.” And the teacher disappeared into the house, leaving the front door slightly open behind her. Marcie watched her go, then held her phone up to her ear. 

“Hey, Charlotte. I need some pediatric equipment delivered to 5400 S. Oak Tree Street. I’ve got a special case on my hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for medicine! Reviews would be much welcomed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcie talks to Frisk's family.

Last Chapter: “Hey, Charlotte. I need some pediatric equipment delivered to 5400 S. Oak Tree Street. I’ve got a special case on my hands.”

*****************

After a lengthy conversation about the parameters and details of every single piece of equipment and medicines she needed, Marcie reentered the house, shutting the door behind her. She walked straight forward and stepped into the cozy living room, decorated with haphazard pieces of furniture and a small glass coffee table. The burgundy walls were covered with a framed family picture of the monsters with Frisk in Toriel’s lap, waving and smiling. Their crayon and pencil drawings were also framed and hung around the room, signed ‘Frisk’ in the familiar scrawl of a child. 

After admiring the small illustrations of houses, monsters, and fields of yellow flowers, Marcie turned her attention to the monsters in the room. First, in the smallest chair, was a yellow skinned monster resembling a lizard (dinosaur?) with glasses and wearing a white lab coat. She seemed nervous and twitchy and the monster next to her was speaking to her in a kind and reassuring voice. She was tall and blue-skinned wth red hair in a ponytail and fin-like ears. Marcie recognized her as one of the children’s soccer coaches - the one who was always super into everything that was happening. WAY too invested. Her name was Undyne, if she remembered correctly. 

The two other monsters besides Toriel were a skeleton and one that looked almost like Toriel, but had horns, was larger, and was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt. The skeleton that was there was the one that had met her at the door - Papyrus, she recalled.

“Human doctor!” the skeleton proclaimed upon her entrance. “How is Frisk?”

“She’s very busy, Papyrus, give her a moment!” Toriel snapped, but when she turned she smiled at Marcie and took her hands in her own. “Marcie, how are things?”

“Everything’s going well. The hospital agreed to bring me everything Frisk needs.”

Toriel grinned and her shoulders slumped in relief. 

“That’s wonderful!” she said. “Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be nice,” Marcie said. Toriel ushered the doctor to a cozy and well used blue armchair and asked Papyrus to get a glass of water.

“OF COURSE! RIGHT AWAY!”

He returned with a small plastic cup filled with tap water.

“I am sorry, human doctor,” Papyrus apologized. “The only clean cups in the cabinet are Frisk’s. Thus the airplane cup.”

Marcie chuckled and took a sip of water.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I have a daughter so I eat and drink from kids’ stuff all the time.” She took another sip. “Thank you for the water, Papyrus.”

The skeleton grinned.

“You are welcome! Would you like more?”

“No. I’m fine, thank you. I would like to speak with you all though. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Toriel answered. “Shall I get Sans?”

“No, I’d like him to stay with Frisk. Someone should be with them at all times.”

“Is it that bad?” Undyne asked.

Marcie leaned forward and placed her cup on the coffee table. She sighed. 

“Unfortunately, Frisk is very sick.”

“With w-what?” the monster in the lab coat asked, fidgeting in anxiety.

“Pneumonia, ma’am . . .?” Marcie trailed off, unsure of the monster’s name or age. Luckily, Toriel spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Mitchell, I forgot to introduce you to everyone. This is Alphys, a scientist.” The lab coat clad monster waved and pushed her glasses up her nose. “This is Undyne, and she’s the school’s PE teacher and soccer coach. You might recognize her?”

“Of course. Unfortunately I haven’t had the pleasure to meet you until now.” A wry smile pulled at her lips. “This is a poor time to meet.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Undyne said. “I’m just glad you’re here for Frisk.”

“And this is my ex husband, Asgore.” Marcie blinked, surprised that monsters could even get divorces, before smiling and greeting the monster. 

“And that’s everyone?” 

“W-well sometimes M-Mettaton comes ov-over,” Alphys said. “B-but he is b-busy with television a lot so he might not c-come.”

“So just one visitor besides all of you then?” When everyone nodded, Marcie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Then I’m going to explain to you what is going on with Frisk.” She sighed. “I have diagnosed Frisk with a serious case of pneumonia. I’m going to put them on a portable oxygen concentrator, some intravenous medications, and a fever reducer. They will have plenty of care and I’m almost positive they’ll make a full recovery.”

“But they need to be on oxygen?” Undyne said, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t that bad?”

“Yes, and they’ll need to be on it for a while after I’ve deemed it safe for them to leave bed. Frisk is on strict bedrest at the moment. The only reason they can get out of bed is if one of you takes them to the bathroom. Understood?”

Everyone nodded.

“And please do NOT adjust the oxygen concentration without my consent. It could seriously affect Frisk’s health.” When everyone nodded, once again, in understanding, Marcie relaxed. “I’ll be here every day from nine in the morning to two in the afternoon unless I have an appointment scheduled for that day. If I am not here and you need me, I will always be on call. I’ll have my cellphone on me at all times. However,” Marcie leaned forward and pointed to each and every monster individually, “if there is an emergency, I want you to call an ambulance first. If Frisk is obviously struggling to breathe despite the oxygen or if they stop responding to stimuli, you call 911 right away and then call me. Do you all understand?”

Every monster nodded, their eyes huge with fear. Marcie tried to smile reassuringly, but failed. She stood up, handing the water cup back to Papyrus. 

“Can we see Frisk?” he asked, anxiety written all across his face. 

“Not yet, I’m sorry, Papyrus.” Marcie shook her head. “But when the supplies get here, you can help move everything up to Frisk’s room.” She bit her lip and surveyed the skeleton’s appearance. “Some of it is rather heavy, though. . .”

Undyne jumped from her seat, pumping her fist in the air.

“I can carry anything!” she declared. “If I can suplex boulders, I can carry in oxygen machines!” Marcie smiled and Undyne turned to the others, her voice filling with a hesitant hope. “And if Frisk can defeat me, Undyne the Undying, then they can defeat anything!!!”

“YEAH!” Papyrus cheered and Toriel exchanged a fond smile with Alphys. 

“Frisk is going to be all right,” Asgore said, his deep voice booming gently through the room. “We’ll take good care of them.”

Toriel twitched, but then laid a hand on Asgore’s arm and squeezed. Asgore looked up at her in surprise and shock, but she simply smiled.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “They’ll be fine.” She turned then to Marcie. “Shall we go back upstairs to check on Frisk, Dr. Mitchell?”

“Of course.” She waited for Toriel at the foot of the stairs, then raised a gentle hand to the rest of the monster family. “It was nice to meet you all,” she smiled. They all echoed in agreement and then watched them go.

Undyne placed her hands on her hips.

“She’d better know how to take care of Frisk. If she doesn’t I’ll CRUSH HER!”

No one disagreed.

*********************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portable oxygen concentrators are actually pretty small and can sometimes fit in backpacks, so Frisk's oxygen concentrator is totally a thing that can be brought to their home. Reviews are welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

Last chapter: "No one disagreed."

*************

Sans was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Frisk cradled in his lap like a newborn babe. Their fingers were curled into the wrinkled blue fabric of his sweatshirt, tiny coughs ripped from their mouth every once and a while. Sans rubbed their back with gentle hands, a frown on his face.

Toriel and Marcie were kneeling by one of Frisk’s cabinets, the pajama drawer pulled out. The two moms began pulling out random pieces of clothing, setting them neatly on the blue carpet. When Marcie and Toriel had reentered the room to a fitfully sleeping Frisk and a worried Sans, the first thing Marcie noticed were Frisk’s flushed cheeks. She had stepped up and unwrapped Frisk from the blankets they were swaddled in, then, upon noticing the winter pajamas the child was wearing, decided they needed to be changed. Not only was Frisk probably roasting in the fabric, worsening their fever, but the pajamas had long sleeves that would get in the way of the IVs Marcie needed to put in later. So she and Toriel were now on a mission to find Frisk some new and better pajamas.

“What about this?” Marcie asked, holding up a rubber-ducky patterned nightgown. Toriel shook her head and took the gown.

“Frisk hates the gown,” she explained, laying it aside. “They say it makes their legs cold.”

“Even in the summer?”

“Yes.”

“So it looks like this pair is out of commission too, then,” the doctor said, laying a pair of pajamas with a t-shirt and shorts aside. She reached into the drawer and pulled out the next pair. “Ummm. . . What are these? I’ve never seen this pattern before. . .”

She trailed off as she stared down at the bright pink pajama onesie, decorated with hearts and a robot in different dramatic poses surrounded by the word METTATON all over. Toriel chuckled and took the pajamas from Marcie, setting them aside.

“Mettaton gave these as a gift when he started his new show. He said he wanted Frisk to be fabulous even in their dreams.’”

“That’s adorable,” Marcie laughed. “Has Frisk worn them yet?” 

“No,” Toriel answered, turning back towards the drawer. “Not yet. They will when they feel better and Mettaton comes over. Then they’ll try them on. Until then. . . Ah ha!” she cried, pleased. “These should work perfectly!”

She brandished a pair of pajamas - a t-shirt and pants patterned with owls and flowers. The periwinkle pajama top had a spattering of colorful owls- underneath was written “Whoooo’s Sleepy?” 

“These are perfect,” Marcie smiled, gazing at the pjs in Toriel’s hands. The two moms stood up and then walked to Frisk’s bed. Toriel sat herself at the edge and pried Frisk from Sans’ gentle fingers. Frisk whimpered at first, clutching at Sans’ sweatshirt, then twisted weakly as they were laid down in bed. 

“Shh, kiddo,” Sans said, squeezing Frisk’s hand. 

“We’re going to put new jammies on now, little one,” Toriel said and she began to try to unbutton Frisk’s pajama top. However, her thick, furry fingers proved ineffective, and Sans took over, his gentle and bony fingers deftly unbuttoning the top as Toriel slipped Frisk’s pants off their slim hips. As Toriel redressed the small child in the new pajamas, Marcie gazed at their tiny chest, with prominent ribs and pale skin, and, with a worried pang of the heart, Marcie saw the belly breaths Frisk was taking to make it easier to breathe.

As Marcie watched Sans and Toriel redress the feverish Frisk, there was a knock at the door. Marcie rose to her feet as a loud “HELLO. YOU HAVE BROUGHT MEDICINE FOR OUR SMALL HUMAN?” echoed up the stairs. 

“I’m going to sign all the papers,” Marcie said, getting to her feet. “When Undyne. . .?” Toriel nodded in the affirmative. “Undyne comes up with the equipment, please don’t touch anything.” 

“Of course.” Toriel tugged the pajama shirt over Frisk’s brown hair and then smoothed down the static, flyaway hairs. Sans watched, then looked up at Marcie. 

“Do you need me to do anything?” he asked.

“No,” the doctor answered with a gentle smile. “But you can take a break now, Sans.”

“I don’t-”

“Just take some time,” Marcie said, “even if you just make some tea for Frisk. You need to leave for a bit - for your sake.”

Sans hesitated, gazing back at the tiny, shivering Frisk, before nodding.

“Tea, you said?” he asked as he followed Marcie out of the room. 

“It will help with their cough,” Marcie answered. “Honey will soothe the pain in their throat and make the tea taste better. Does Frisk like sweet things?”

“They love candy,” Sans said with a soft and sad smile. “We have to hide all the sweets in the house.” 

“Then tea with honey will do just fine.” Marcie turned at the bottom of the stairs and walked out the front door, parting ways with Sans as he headed to the kitchen.

******************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH. I'm so sorry for not posting anything for a while but depression is a bitch and finals were kicking my ass. But here's another chapter to make up for the time I've been gone!


	7. Chapter 7

Last chapter: “Then tea with honey will do just fine.” Marcie turned at the bottom of the stairs and walked out the front door, parting ways with Sans as he headed to the kitchen.

****************************

Marcie!” a man’s voice called as she walked out onto the porch. “I’ve got everything you asked for!”

“Thanks, Rory,” she said, hugging the man. He had sandy brown hair that lay disheveled all across his face and head, tan skin, and wide green eyes. His wide toothy grin took up half his face, but it was falling now. 

“So you’ve got a sick kid up there?” he asked as he handed her some forms. 

“Mhm,” Marcie nodded. She scribbled her name across the allotted spaces. “Pneumonia.”

Rory winced.

“Yikes. That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it. They’ve got it quite badly too.”

Rory didn’t even blink at the use of the gender-neutral pronoun, for which Marcie was thankful and surprised. He took the forms from her once she had finished and gazed back at Undyne and Papyrus, who were unloading the oxygen concentrator and some IV equipment from the truck. Rory sighed.

“They seem really invested in the kid they’ve got,” he said, a smile twitching across his lips. “It’s always good to see people - or monsters - taking care of a kid that wasn’t even theirs till a few months ago. They were in foster care, right?”

“Yeah,” Marcie nodded. “Frisk was moved from family to family. They had a really rough time, I heard.”

“But now Frisk has a family of their own.” Rory’s smile grew wide again. “Monsters or not, this is a great thing. It doesn’t matter what anyone says.”

Marcie frowned.

“What are they saying?” she asked, watching Undyne and Papyrus carry the equipment into the house. 

“Some of the parents in the PTA have been. . . unkind,” Rory said, pursing his lips. Marcie snorted.

“Unkind? Unkind is an understatement. They tried to ban me from the group for promoting vaccinations. And didn’t something happen with your son?”

“Yeah.” Rory didn't elaborate, but sighed. “I’ve heard rumors about Frisk and their family. The things they say. . .” He trailed off and shook his head. “I’d try to keep them from Toriel and the rest of the monsters. I just want Frisk to be okay,” he said. “And I want their family to be safe.” 

“Wait, you don’t think this family is safe?” Marcie asked, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“They should be safe,” Rory said, dipping his head in the direction of the muscular and fierce Undyne yelling at Papyrus and Sans. “I just wish they didn't have to worry about it.” He looked back down at Marcie. “Monsters have been attacked lately, you know,” he said. “No one’s been hurt, but it’s still worrying. I don’t want this family to be worrying about anything except their kid.”

“Speaking of,” Marcie said, “would you help set up Frisk’s oxygen concentrator? You’re the respiratory therapist here.” 

“Yep! Sure thing!” Rory’s bright smile reappeared and he grinned down at Marcie. “I’m here to help.” 

After sliding the signed forms into the dashboard of the truck and locking up the doors, Rory and Marcie headed back to the house. Undyne bounced out of the blue front door, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Marcie and Rory.

“Everything is all set up!” she said with a big, proud smile. Her red ponytail whipped gently in the winter wind. “It’s all sitting in their room now.”

“Good. Thank you, Undyne. How are they doing?”

“Frisk is sleeping,” Undyne answered and her smile faded a bit. She turned and led them back inside, closing the door behind them. “It’s been a rough day for them. The worst day yet, actually.” Undyne forced another smile over her face. “But that kid is our angel, you know. A wimpy angel, but an angel nonetheless. They freed us all from the Underground. There was a prophecy.” Undyne stopped on the stairs and looked over her shoulder. “A prophecy that said an angel from aboveground would come and save us all and bring us back here. Where the sun shines and the wind blows and the grass grows.” She smiled. “Frisk, that wimpy loser with a big heart, saved us all. They’re our angel. Our ambassador. Can you believe that? Frisk, who’s only eight, is the savior and ambassador of an entire race!” She laughed, her face shining with pride. “Frisk may be as wimpy and tiny as it gets, but they are strong. They are very, very strong.” 

Undyne turned on the middle of the stairs, looming over Rory and Marcie. She shook her finger down at them.

“I may be able to suplex boulders just because I want to,” she declared, “but small little Frisk is far stronger than me. They’re stronger than all of us. If our angel - our Frisk - is strong enough to make it through the Underground in mostly one piece, then they’re going to make it through a sickness like this with no trouble! Understood?”

Marcie and Rory nodded in unison. 

“Good!” Undyne placed her hands on her hips. “Then shall we go to see Frisk?”

“Yes,” Marcie nodded. “Lead the way, Undyne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Undyne with my being and her character is interesting to play with. Rory is the only other OC in this story, in case anyone was worried about me adding too many. Thanks for reading everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus has anxiety and Sans is tired.

Previous chapter: “Yes,” Marcie nodded. “Lead the way, Undyne.”

***********

In the next few seconds, they were inside Frisk’s room, made to seem smaller by the equipment that had been brought in. Marcie went straight to Frisk while Rory turned to the oxygen concentrator, fiddling with buttons and introducing himself to Sans. Papyrus and Toriel were sitting next to Frisk, Toriel’s fingers carding through the sick child’s brown hair. Papyrus’ knees were bouncing and nervousness was written all across his face. When he saw Marcie, he jumped to his feet, a handkerchief held out.

“Hu-human doctor,” he stammered, “this red stuff is supposed to stay inside our small human, right?” Marcie looked down at the hankie and saw a glob of yellow mucus, which was interlaced with more blood than Marcie had yet seen. She frowned.

“Yes, Papyrus, it is,” she answered. She took his seat next to Frisk and grabbed a penlight from her medical bag, which had remained untouched where she had left it last. “But I don’t think this is anything to be too worried about.”

“But they-they’re coughing up blood. That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?” Papyrus stood behind Marcie, wringing his hands in anxiety. 

“Yes, but it’s probably not as serious as you think.” With Toriel’s help, Marcie got Frisk to lie back on their pillows again. She tipped their chin back and pried open their jaw. Frisk tried to close their mouth and pull away, but Marcie kept her hold. “Shh, easy, Frisk. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What are you doing?” Toriel and Papyrus asked simultaneously and Marcie could feel both of their gazes boring into her back. 

“I just need to take a look in their throat.” Frisk made a distressed clicking sound with their tongue and brought their shaky, blue-nailed hands up to sign.

'Stop,' they said. 'Please stop. Don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.'

“Don’t be sorry, small human,” Papyrus soothed. “There is nothing to be sorry for. The doctor isn't not trying to hurt you. She just wants to help.”

Marcie flicked the light on and peered down Frisk’s throat, turning their head this way and that. After only a few seconds, Marcie released Frisk and leaned back.

“What is wrong?” Papyrus asked.

“Nothing serious. The coughs just tore the tissue in their trachea a little bit. So Frisk isn’t actually coughing up blood from their lungs, which is a very good thing.” She smiled at Toriel and the skeleton. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Why are their fingers and lips blue?” the skeleton asked next. “Are they cold?” He whipped off his scarf/cloak and shoved it at the doctor. “Here! To warm the small human! I shall also get a fire going!” He began to dash towards the bedroom door when his brother stepped in front of him, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. 

“Bro,” Sans said, “chill out a bit. They aren’t cold.”

“But-”

“Hear me out.” Papyrus went quiet and Sans continued. “Frisk needs oxygen to breathe, just like Toriel and the others. The sickness they have affects their lungs, which give them oxygen. When they don’t have enough oxygen, they start turn to blue.”

Papyrus’ eye sockets went wide.

“That is truly horrifying!” he declared. “Brother, where did you learn this?”

Sans pointed a bony finger at Rory, who had pulled the small oxygen concentrator to Frisk’s bedside.

“He’s a respiratory therapist, which means he knows a lot about lungs. At least that’s what he told me.” 

Papyrus stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “how interesting. Did he say how they’re going to give our small human an adequate supply of oxygen?”

“That machine will,” Sans said, pointing at the small blue box with an electronic screen and a ridiculous amount of buttons. “It’s full of compressed, pure oxygen.”

“That’s great!” Papyrus smiled down at his brother. However, his smile faltered when he saw how haggard and worn with worry Sans was. “Sans, are you-”

“I couldn’t find the tea, Pap,” Sans interrupted, “and the doctor asked me to make some for Frisk. Could you help out?” 

“Of course!” Papyrus forced a smile on his face and led his brother out of the room. “With honey? Tea with honey is always the best.”

Sans smiled.

“Yeah, they asked for tea with honey.” 

“The only honey we have is golden flower honey.”

Sans blinked.

“Golden flower. . .? They have golden flowers here?”

“I guess so,” Papyrus answered with a shrug. “Alphys bought it from the grocery store and said it was really sweet and, with Frisk’s sweet tooth, they’d probably like it too. I think we should try it with the tea.”

Sans smiled slowly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Golden flower honey. . . .”

**************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered that Golden Flower honey doesn't exist - but wildflower honey does. My childhood was a lie.....


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk gets some much-needed oxygen.

Last chapter: "Yeah," he [Sans] agreed, "Golden flower honey. . ." 

**************

“My name is Rory,” the man said, holding out his hand to Toriel then to Undyne. “I work with kids with sick lungs all the time, so no need to worry.”

“Frisk is in great hands,” Marcie smiled. “Rory is one of the most highly regarded child respiratory therapists in the state.”

Toriel’s eyes widened and Undyne crossed her arms, nodding in approval. 

“It’s good to have you here, sir,” Toriel said, squeezing Frisk’s hand. “We’re quite worried.”

“I can see why,” Rory said, clipping a pulse ox reader onto Frisk’s index finger. “Frisk here is not in good shape.”

“No shit,” Undyne snorted and Toriel slapped her arm, telling her to watch her language, before apologizing profusely to Rory and Marcie. 

Rory just laughed and waved a hand in dismissal.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ve heard worse. I’m sure Frisk has heard worse too.” He winked at Undyne and she grinned.

“They sure have,” Undyne laughed. “This one time-”

'Undone?' 

Frisk forced their eyes open, and Undyne pushed past Toriel to grab Frisk’s small hand.

“Hey, bestie,” she said, “I’m here. How’re you feeling?”

Frisk raised their hands to sign again, then frowned at the pulse ox clipped to their finger. They reached for it with a troubled and annoyed expression.

'What. . .? What is this?' 

Undyne trapped the small hands in her own and then laid the one with the pulse ox aside.

“You’ve got to leave that on, Frisk,” she said. Frisk twitched in disapproval, growing agitated and upset, and Undyne, eager to soothe, swept their hair back with a hand. “It’s okay, Frisk. It’s okay. Just keep it on, all right? It’s okay.” 

“Little one,” Toriel whispered, “hush now. You’re safe. The doctors and the rest of us are just trying to take care of you. Please be calm.”

“Yeah, punk. Calm down.” Undyne was smiling, but Marcie could tell it was forced. “Chill out.”

For a few more tense moments, Frisk whimpered and tried to dislodge the pulse ox clip before giving up - whether because of Toriel’s and Undyne’s words or exhaustion, no one knew. Rory reached over and attached some plastic tubing to the oxygen machine before unclipping the pulse ox from Frisk’s finger. His eyes widened at the number he saw on the pulse ox machine. 

In a nearly inaudible voice, Rory muttered a string of curse words - words Marcie had never heard from the man in all the years she had known him. His big green eyes flicked up to her and her heart dropped as he flashed her the oxygen concentration numbers, which were dangerously low. Rory began to set up the oxygen machine as Marcie immediately went to work on the IVs and medicines. 

“Frisk,” Rory said, grabbing an oxygen mask and attaching it to the plastic tubing on the oxygen concentrator, “I’m going to put this on your face now and you have to keep it on, okay? This is really, really important. Do you understand? Nod if you understand, Frisk.”

Frisk blinked a few times, then turned to look at Undyne and Toriel. 

“Do you understand, little one?” Toriel asked, a deep frown creasing her brow. “You can’t take the mask off.”

Frisk blinked a couple more times before nodding.

*************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so kinda short with a weird ending but I literally didn't know where to end it. Stay tuned for the next chapter! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk struggles.

Frisk blinked a couple more times before nodding.

******************************

“Okay, then, kiddo,” Rory said, and, with Undyne’s help, they sat Frisk up and Rory slipped the child-sized oxygen mask over their mouth and nose. Initially, Frisk panicked, flailing and trying to punch Undyne and Rory, but when the oxygen began to flow, they relaxed, their eyes widening slightly in surprise and quiet shock.

Mom?

“Yes, my child?”

'It doesn’t hurt. It feels. . . good. . .'

“Is that so?” Toriel smiled, flooded with relief. “It’s meant to make you feel a little better.”

'Okay. . . Chest still hurts though.'

“Give it a little time, punk,” Undyne said, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. “It’s just oxygen - not magic.” 

“Excuse me,” Rory interrupted, raising his hand. He smiled wryly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know sign language. Can you tell me what they said?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Undyne said. “They said that the oxygen feels good, but their chest still hurts.”

Rory smiled and rubbed Frisk’s arm. 

“I’m glad it’s helping you,” he said, “and I’m glad that it will keep helping you. And Marcie has medicine for your lungs.” His smile grew wider. “You’ll get better, Frisk, don’t you worry. You know you’ll get better, don’t you?” 

Frisk nodded and even tried for a smile. Toriel and Undyne’s hearts soared. But, as is the way with the world, within the next few minutes, just as Marcie finished inserting IV lines into Frisk’s elbows, they launched into another coughing fit. This one was worse than the others, lasting twice as long, and by the end, despite the oxygen, Frisk was fighting for breath. 

“What’s going on?” Undyne asked as Frisk arched their back, fingers scrabbling at Toriel’s purple dress. Toriel was so frightened that she was near tears, and Marcie and Rory were so busy trying to get Frisk stabilized that they ignored Undyne’s question. 

“Undyne!” Marcie snapped and Undyne was suddenly at attention, prepared to do anything she was instructed to. “Give me the yellow capped syringe in my bag.” Frisk arched again. “Quickly!”

Undyne rushed to the leather doctor’s bag and scrabbled around for a syringe. When she found the one with the yellow cap, she tossed it into the doctor’s waiting hand, who uncapped it and plunged the needle into Frisk’s main IV. The child bucked wildly, then took a few gulps of oxygen and relaxed a bit, tears running down their face. After a minute passed and Frisk was still calm and no longer struggling to breathe, Marcie exchanged a nod with Rory and placed her hand on Toriel’s shoulder.

“It’s over, Toriel,” the doctor said. “They’re okay now.”

Toriel nodded and hefted the crying child closer to her, her own tears finally falling down her cheeks, landing softly in Frisk’s brown hair. Rory got close to them, taking a look at Frisk and upping the oxygen that would flow into the mask, speaking reassuringly to the monster and child. Marcie got up and wiped her hand across her brow. 

“What was that?” Undyne asked. “What just happened?”

“We need to talk,” Marcie said in response. She walked past Undyne and headed downstairs. “Now.”

Undyne flew after the doctor.

“What is it?” she repeated, which seemed to have been said at least a hundred times by now. “What the hell was that?”

“Respiratory distress,” Marcie answered, running a hand over her face. “God, I did not expect this. Can I stay the night?”

Undyne blinked at the unexpected question.

“What?”

“Can I stay the night?” Marcie said again. “I need Frisk to be under observation.”

****** 

Dun dun dun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Kyle not understanding how to ease medical respiratory distress. Bronchodilators are a real thing but I'm not sure I used them right in this situation. I AM in nursing school though, so hopefully I'll know this shit soon. If anyone out there has some corrections for me, I'd love that. :) 
> 
> ~FaramirsBlessing


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne is scared

Last chapter: “Can I stay the night?” Marcie said again. “I need Frisk to be under observation.”

*****************

Undyne stammered, searching for words, her mind racing a hundred miles an hour. Respiratory distress? Observation? On Monday, Frisk just had an annoying little cough and no one had been worried - Sans had even made stupid cough puns. How had four days changed their health so horribly, so drastically? Undyne didn’t understand.

“Undyne,” Marcie repeated, her eyebrow raised. “Did you hear me? I asked-”

“What’s going on?” 

Sans appeared from the kitchen, his hands buried in the deep pockets of his blue sweatshirt. His eyes darted from Marcie to Undyne before settling on Undyne, who looked twitchy and slightly scared. Sans’ stomach dropped. He’d never, ever, seen Undyne scared in all the years he knew her. 

“Is something wrong, Doctor Mitchell?” he asked Marcie, knowing that the only thing that would affect Undyne this much would be Frisk. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to stay the night,” Marcie said. “Frisk is worse and they’ll need overnight care.” 

“Oh. Oh, wow. Um. . . Undyne, why don’t you go to the kitchen and help Pap find the honey?”

“Oh, yeah.” Undyne blinked, then nodded and pumped her fist in the air. “Yeah, of course! I’ll help that idiot find that bear-shaped bottle!” 

Undyne ran down the hall and disappeared into the kitchen and Sans was left alone with Marcie.

“All right,” he said, “you need to stay the night then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do Tori and the others know about this?”

“No.” Marcie shook her head. “Only you and Undyne know as of yet.”

“Okay. Do me a favor and let me tell ‘em, all right? It’ll probably be better coming from me than you.”

“Of course.”

“So. . . You need a cot?” 

***************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but this is where it kinda needed to end. I'll update soon, pinkie promise!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans talks with the monster fam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry for not having updated this sooner. College just started for me and I needed to move in, get settled with classes, make a routine for myself. Studying science is hella hard guys. (But it's also super fun!) Anyhow, enough with the apologies and on with the story!

Last chapter: 

“So. . . You need a cot?” 

***************

“Hey, l-look, Frisk’s favorite TV show is on!” Alphys said and Undyne jumped over the top of the couch, plopping down next to her girlfriend. On the screen was Mettaton’s new game show - a wildly popular television program that combined quizzes, cooking contests, dance competitions, and much more. 

“Ah, Mettaton,” Papyrus sighed, leaning over the kitchen island and focusing on the TV. “He’s so cool.”

“Sure is, bro,” Sans agreed, walking up behind his brother and grabbing a bottle of ketchup from the fridge. “Hella cool.”

“I h-hope Frisk will be w-well enough soon to be able to watch this again,” Alphys said and drew her legs up to her chest. Undyne wrapped her arm around Alphys and squeezed tight. 

“They’ll be just fine,” she said with her familiar wide toothy grin. “Don’t you worry, Alphy.” 

“Yes! Our small human will defeat this illness!” Papyrus declared. “They can do anything!”

Sans’ face changed, his usually happy facade fading rapidly. Alphys turned around to speak to him, but when she saw his expression, her brow furrowed in worry.

“Sans?” she asked. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Mettaton’s loud voice boomed from the television, announcing the newest contestants on the show. Undyne grabbed the remote and pressed mute, silencing Mettaton. Sans rounded the couch and sat himself in Asgore’s chair. The former king did not live in the house with the others, since Toriel still couldn’t stand him, but rented an apartment of his own, and had since gone home when he heard he could do nothing for Frisk at the moment. So Sans took over his large armchair, the huge cushions nearly swallowing his bones. Sans chuckled and then pushed himself closer to the edge of the seat. 

“The doc is staying the night,” he explained, taking a swig of ketchup and diverting his eyes from the group. Alphys smothered a cry as Papyrus gasped dramatically.

“WHAT?!?” he declared. “WHY? IS SOMETHING WRONG?”

“Frisk is worse.”

“Our small human is worse?” Papyrus paused. “Worse. . . how?”

Sans shrugged and Undyne spoke for him instead.

“They had a weird attack a while ago,” she said, her voice quiet. “It was rough - they couldn’t breathe very well. I’m worried.”

Alphys placed her hand over Undyne’s. 

“It’ll be o-okay,” she said, forcing a smile over her face. “Frisk will b-be fine.”

“Yeah,” Undyne agreed, but her voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. “I sure hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this one apologizes for it being so short. *winces*


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcie and Toriel talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such a late update! Life has been really difficult and hectic lately, so I haven't had much time to write or update. College is hard work, fam. But here's some more - in this short chapter Marcie and Toriel talk about mom things.

Last Chapter: 

“Yeah,” Undyne agreed, but her voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. “I sure hope so.”

*********************

It was around midnight now, and Rory had left hours ago, but no one had gone to sleep except Frisk. Marcie had sat next to them all night, helping Toriel get the child to eat some thin broth and drink some tea, easing coughs and pain, and inserting more medicine into the IVs. It was with some relief that Marcie saw that Frisk was making small improvements and she told the monsters so with great eagerness. Their breathing was less difficult, their coughs slightly less wrenching, and Marcie hadn’t needed to use the emergency bronchodilators since the attack when Undyne was in the room. 

Now, Toriel and Marcie were sitting together, the only light in the room the desk lamp that spilled warm yellow light across Frisk’s pale skin, casting shadows in the hollows of their cheeks. Marcie and Toriel were speaking quietly about mundane motherly things when Frisk coughed and turned their head towards their surrogate mom’s voice. 

“Ah, little one,” Toriel whispered, running her hand gently over Frisk’s feverish forehead. “Shh, it’s all right. Go back to sleep.”

Frisk whimpered and Marcie’s heart broke a little bit. The doctor hoped she’d never have to hear her own daughter in such misery.

“Frisk, my child, I’m here. It is late. Go to sleep now.”

Frisk whimpered once more before leaning into Toriel’s touch and relaxing as they fell back into their restless sleep. Toriel sighed and bit her lip.

“The poor dear has suffered so much,” she said, shaking her head, “it breaks my heart to have to see them suffer even more.”

“Even more?”

Toriel looked over at Marcie and shook her head. 

“The Underground was not a safe place for humans, least of all children. Frisk went through many hardships and endured much pain to free us all.”

Marcie leaned back in her chair, pondering the sick little kid in front of her with awe.

“What a fighter,” she said, and she grinned at Toriel. “What a brave kid. I’ve seen a lot of children in my time, Toriel, and let me say that Frisk is one of the strongest I’ve ever met.”

“Is that so?” Toriel beamed as she looked back down at Frisk. “I think so too.”


End file.
